


If you loved me, why'd you leave me?

by brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Some angst, i'm super tired so i have no idea what i'm doing, this whole 5x12 thing has gotten me down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-01
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-20 18:58:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3661326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly/pseuds/brazenlyunabashedlyshamelessly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Mickey and the Gallaghers found out that Ian had taken off with Monica</p>
            </blockquote>





	If you loved me, why'd you leave me?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm tired and sad, so I did this. It's not great, but between all the speculation for 5x12 and a gifset I saw a little while ago, I needed to purge. In case you're wondering: I'm still tired and sad.

Mickey Milkovich was no stranger to people leaving. You got used to it, living in this neighbourhood. Death, incarceration, the desperate need to just _get away_. Mickey understood, even though he’d never had any illusions about his own prospects.

The first option would happen eventually; he was surprised the second hadn’t happened again sooner; and the last wasn’t for him. South Side for life, and all that.

His whole family had left him, at one point or another. Sometimes, he was glad. Other times, indifferent. When Mandy had left, it’d hurt, although he’d only ever told Ian that.

And yet, for all that Mickey had gotten used to it, Ian still managed to blindside him. But then, Ian had been doing that pretty much from the start, hadn’t he?

The news that Ian had been released had sent relief coursing through him. Words tumbled out of Mickey’s mouth; he had no idea what he’d said, his only thought being that now he’d be able to take Ian home. They could sit on the couch, maybe watch some lame ass tv show. Or maybe, they’d go straight up to bed. He hadn’t been sleeping, had missed Ian’s presence beside him the past couple days.

Yeah, he liked that. They’d lie in Ian’s tiny bed, and Mickey would just hold onto him. He’d watch Ian’s chest rise and fall, refamiliarise himself the constellation of freckles on Ian’s cheekbones and shoulders.

Except... the high that for once, _for fucking once_ , something had gone right had abruptly come crashing down. A clipped voice informed them that Ian wasn’t here.

Because Ian had been released into the care of Monica Gallagher. Monica Gallagher, his unmedicated, flaked out mother. Monica Gallagher, a woman who disappeared for months at a time with no word to her family. Monica Gallagher, who Mickey hadn’t even known Ian was still in contact with.

Stunned silence, broken only by that same hard voice asking them to leave, pointing out that they were blocking the way.

Settling into autopilot, Mickey threw the car into reverse. All the Gallaghers seemed to start talking at once.

“Why would he do this—?”

“Wait, Ian knows where Monica is—?”

“See? This is what we were fuckin’ talkin’ about—”

None of that filtered through. All Mickey could do was run over the last couple weeks in his mind. What he’d done, what he hadn’t done. Had he made Ian feel like a freak? Was that why he’d left? Maybe, if he could figure out what he’d done wrong, he could fix it. Maybe, if he talked to Ian, he could promise that he’d do better this time.

Pulling up outside the Gallagher house, Mickey made no move to get out of the car. He jumped a little at the feel of a gentle hand on his arm.

“You okay?” Fiona asked cautiously.

Mickey turned to meet her anxious brown eyes. Anger flared up inside him at the stupid fucking question. Not bothering to respond, he shoved the car door open, and stepped out into the cold air. The rest of Ian’s siblings entered the house, talking amongst themselves. Wondering where Ian was, how to find him? Fuck, they could’ve been talking about what to have for dinner for all Mickey knew.

He stood there for a few moments, hoping that it would come to him, how he’d fucked up this thing he and Ian had. Because that was why Ian had left the last time, right? Because he’d fumbled it, because he hadn’t done enough, been enough, for Ian to stay. If Mickey could just... if it would just come to him, he could tell Ian he was sorry before Ian got too far away.

He could feel that the tips of his ears were getting cold. He wondered if Ian had a jacket.

Blindly reaching for his phone, Mickey hit the most recently dialled number.

It rang a few times before going to voicemail.

Mickey tried again. And again. And again.

It was stupid; he knew it was. And still he kept hitting redial, like maybe _this time_ Ian would pick up the phone.

Turned out, hope really was paralysing. He didn’t know how long he stood out there for. Long enough for it to get dark. Long enough for Fiona to come out to check on him. Long enough for that cold to have made his fingers stiff, even as he kept calling.

Maybe, if he stood there long enough, he could figure out why Ian kept leaving him.


End file.
